Three snapshots from theatre history:
(1) In Zürich during the First
World War, the English Players staged an amateur production of
The Importance Of Being Earnest,
which led to a legal and literary feud between the company’s business
manager James Joyce and a minor British consular official named Henry
Carr;
(2) In 1974, Tom Stoppard used
(1) as the basis for his play
Travesties. Also in Zürich at the
time, and in the play, are Lenin and the Romanian Dadaist poet Tristan
Tzara.
(3) In 1984, I made my first
appearance on a student stage as Joyce in
(2).
The last is of course the most momentous, but we’re concerned here with
the latest revival of
Travesties,
which stars Tom Hollander as Carr. Hollander’s title role in the TV
sitcom
Rev has made him
beloved and cuddly, so he relishes the chance here to play a buffoon
and a git. Old Carr is constantly misremembering things – calling Joyce
“Phyllis”, “Janice” and so on – and turning his memories into scenes
from
Earnest (around half the
play is Wildean pastiche); young Carr is a preening fop obsessed with
the tailoring of trousers. Meanwhile, Joyce is writing
Ulysses and trying to scrounge a
few bob, Tzara is creating cut-up poems by pulling words out of a hat,
and Lenin is getting ready to board the train to Petrograd. It’s a
great shaggy-dog story about an Englishman, an Irishman, a Russian and
a Romanian (or a Bulgarian: “They are the same place,” says Carr airily
whilst disguised as Tzara; “some people call it the one, some the
other.”)
Being a Stoppard play, these assorted hi-jinks mash up with profound
debates about art and politics. Sir Tom has never really been able to
digest these easily into his works, but in this early play he was more
self-conscious and so took far greater care to sugar the pill.
Consequently, artistic freedom is described as like having a chit from
matron at public school and early Communist factions are listed during
a strip-tease routine. This careful yet exuberant balancing of the
serious and the silly is one of Patrick Marber’s long suits as a
director; here, he takes it from a slow start and often keeps things
low-key, allowing the real absurdities to emerge more or less
naturally. Other scenes are written in patter-song, in
Ulysses-ese and even entirely in
limericks.
Forbes Masson is an impassioned Lenin (and oddly Welsh-sounding, for a
Scottish actor playing a Russian); Freddie Fox makes Tzara every bit as
engaging as Algy... not Algy, the other one (as old Carr dodders)... in
Earnest; and Peter McDonald
is, damn his bottle-bottom-bespectacled eyes, a far better Joyce than I
ever was.
Written for The Lady.